


Down the passage which we did not take

by glim



Category: Poldark (TV 2015)
Genre: Alternate Universe - 1960s, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Literary References & Allusions, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-30
Updated: 2016-10-30
Packaged: 2018-08-27 21:15:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 558
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8416999
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/glim/pseuds/glim
Summary: This, too, is unfair: that Ross can decide that this is nothing, that they hold nothing between them of value.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Written for jomiddlemarch on tumblr for the prompt - Ross Poldark/George Warleggan, unrequited love, 1960s, +/- university setting, bonus points for use of poetry.

It isn't fair that Ross Poldark should have everything. That he should have a name that still means something despite his family's many failures; that he should be able to wreak havoc during his gap year, spend another year in America, and return to England as proud as before; that he should be able to attend Oxford with no more struggle than the rest of the aristocracy though his father left him nothing more than his name and a useless plot of land.

What isn't fair is that Ross should want for nothing, when all George wants is Ross himself. 

 

+

 

He spots Ross as soon as he walks into the pub, catches his eye, then George drops his gaze to the girl he'd been talking to before Ross walked in. She's interesting enough--beautiful, smart--but he knows her fingers around his wrist, her hand on his chest, would not be the same. 

Five minutes pass, then ten, and George knows Ross well enough to bide his time and wait until the other man approaches him.

"You didn't say anything this afternoon. Outside the union. I know you saw me at the rally."

Ross's shoulder is firm against George's, his breath sudden and warm at his ear. 

"That was nowhere near organized enough to be a rally." George glances aside, then glances away again before moving into the touch. 

 

+

 

George has one pint, but Ross has two, maybe three, and his hand is tight and insistent around George's as he takes him back to his rooms at college.

He follows Ross up the stairs, then pauses next to Ross as Ross closes the door and flicks on the lamp and radio. The moment between them is tenuous, familiar; they've done this too many times to bother naming what that stands between them.

Ross slides one hand into George's hair, curls the other around his hip, and behind the harsh sound of their breathing are the tinny, last few fading notes of Ticket to Ride. 

 

+

 

"I think you can't decide if you care more for miners' rights or the landed aristocracy. You won't give up your land," George adds when Ross looks over his shoulder, frowning. 

"You're caught between worlds, too," Ross says. He watches George for another moment. "You wouldn't tell anyone--"

"Neither will you." 

"No, well, why would I?" Ross stands from the bed, stretches, naked and unabashed. "It isn't anything--" 

"It's nothing," George cuts him off once more. "Go get dressed." 

This, too, is unfair: that Ross can decide that this is nothing, that they hold nothing between them of value. 

 

+

 

He need not try to ruin Ross Poldark: the man will manage that on his own, sooner or later. 

Anyway, they'll fall into the same pattern here at university as they did at school, the constant urge to find each other, to press each other into the smallest spaces in their lives and to fill those spaces with silence and restrained spite, and with desire, too, that burns at the edges of their unspoken words.

And, yes, this too isn't fair, that Ross cannot or will not recognize the possibility betwen them, the unopened door into the rose-garden. 

 

+

 

Footfalls echo in the memory  
Down the passage which we did not take  
Towards the door we never opened  
Into the rose-garden. 

T.S. Eliot, _Four Quartets_


End file.
